


all manner of ghouls, and beasties, and things that go bump in the night

by orphan_account



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod had grown accustomed, having been to many reenactments and already having seen more than enough horrifying halloween costumes to last him yet another lifetime, to this era’s obsession with ‘make believe’. Though he never imagined Abbie falling to that particular allure, and even now she seems out of place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all manner of ghouls, and beasties, and things that go bump in the night

Ichabod wasn’t particularly keen on this era’s celebration of All Hallows Eve. During his sleep the somber holiday had transformed into an ironic celebration of the macabre and an event in which to push tooth rotting sweets onto an unwitting public. Though he didn’t mind the confectionary as much as he would like.

Ichabod reaches again into a large bowl of candy, removing an unfamiliar brightly packaged morsel from its wrapping and popping it into his mouth. The flavor explodes onto his tongue and he almost moans in appreciation. Yes, he supposes the 21st century does have it perks.

And as Miss Mills exits her bedroom he is greeted with yet another.

He is shamefully sputtering, mouth full of candy. “Is that - Are you wearing a corset?”

Abbie smiles, laughing. “It’s my Princess Tiana costume.” she says giving a little spin. “You like it?”

He lets his eyes drift over her, fully taking in her visage. Her hair is pulled back into elegant bun, a few loose curls framing her neck and face. The ball gown floats around her, a cloud of whimsy clearly crafted in the imitation of a water lilly. On her head sits a sweet tiara, and her face glows with a soft warmth. Even her eyes seem impossibly larger.

“I do.” he says, swallowing. “And who is Princess Tiana?”

“A Disney Princess, um, she’s from a film for little girls. First black princess actually. It was kinda a big deal.”

“Ah, well, it suits you.” Ichabod smiles, and then determinedly casts his eyes back down to the bowl of candy in his lap so as not to stare, rummaging in it depths for another blissful distraction. But Abbie steps closer and bats his hand away.

“No way. Put it down. That’s for the kids, glutton.”

He grumbles but does as she says, grabbing a chair from the dinning room and carrying it to the front porch to place the bowl atop as he was informed was the custom. Abbie joins him on the porch, gun, and badge hanging from the police belt now around her hips. Ichabod smirks and Abbie shoots him look, locking the door behind her.

“Ready to walk the streets, protecting the citizens of Sleepy Hollow from all manner of ghouls, and beasties, and things that go bump in the night.” she intones eerily.

He smiles and offers her his arm.

“Of course. Milady?”

She wraps her arm around his, presses close to his side and Ichabod is very thankful for the crisp autumn air.

———

  
Ichabod had grown accustomed, having been to many reenactments and already having seen more than enough horrifying halloween costumes to last him yet another lifetime, to this era’s obsession with ‘make believe’. Though he never imagined Abbie falling to that particular allure, and even now she seems out of place.

It is far easier for him to envision her, dressed as she is, on the floor of one of the many masquerades he attended as young man back in London rather than attending a garish house party like those they had passed by tonight. For a moment, he lets himself imagine a world in which that was possible. He would have spotted her immediately of course, her image a beacon of light in a sea of tawdry fancy dress. She would have been all sweetness and charm, though he can imagine his delight at the the discovery of her sharp tongue loosened by wine. He wonders if he would have asked her to dance, wonders what it would have felt like to twirl her about the room their eyes meeting over fleeting touches.

“Princess Tiana!!!”

The girlish squeal rouses him from his thoughts in time to see a girl in a mermaids outfit launch herself into Abbie’s skirt.

He watches Abbie crouch down, eyes level with the child’s.

“Hey sweetie what’s your name?”

“Isabelle! Oh wow is that a gun?

“Yup. I’m a cop when I’m not busy with princessing duties”

Ichabod smirks, the near truth in that statement has not escaped him though he suspects there is a rather large difference in ‘princessing duties’ and that of a witness. Across from them, the girl’s older brother pauses to sneer between waving around a ridiculous plastic sword.

“Princesses can’t be cops.”

“Jonathan!” the child’s mother warns.

But Abbie’s focus is on Isabelle.

“Don’t listen to him. We can be anything we want.”

“Can we get some pictures?” the mother asks warmly and Abbie acquiesces. Ichabod is handed a camera and Abbie gives quick instructions.

“Press this button. But say cheese first so we have a warning.”

“Cheese?” He asks, incredulously.

Abbie just nods and smiles.

They take a few pictures, each pose more ludicrous than the next. However, Ichabod couldn’t help but think that the one they referred to as ‘Charlie’s Angels’ was particularly charming. Then the family thanked them both and continued onto the next house, no doubt in search of more sweets.

Ichabod catches Abbie’s eyes, smiles down at her knowingly.

“What?” she asks bumping into him with her shoulder. He offers her his arm again and she tucks into his side.

“Do you do wear this costume every year?”

“Yeah, well, when I get assigned street patrol. Corbin saw it as an opportunity to give back to the community and thought the costumes would lighten the force’s image a bit.”

Abbie is looking up at him, eyes all challenge and yet very shy and he can feel his smile grow tenfold.

“Oh spit it out already.” she says.

He ducks his head close to her ear.

“You are too good Abigail Mills.”

“Stop it,” she says laughing and pushing away from him, “or you are walking back on your own.”

He catches her wrist, pulls her back. “Then I won’t speak on it again. I would not be deprived of your company tonight.”

For a just moment he thinks he sees a flash of something - a playfulness in the curve of her smile or the gleam of her eyes. And he is a little breathless in the wake of it. He tugs her closer, a fire has been lit in his body, making him feel a bit brazen and wild, and he lifts his hand to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. She raises her chin, her smile softening as her eyes drop to his lips and if he was unsure before he is certain now.

He stoops low until his nose brushes against her own, her lips so achingly close. His hand is on her neck, his thumb stroking the keen line of her jaw. She nuzzles up against him warm and tender, and ripe with promise. She is radiant and intoxicating and good lord, he might very well be in love.

“Abbie, I would very much like to -“

And Abbie’s radio crackles to life. She jerks back, hands going to her belt. Ichabod is left reeling, cursing, his mood immediately gone foul.

Of all the foolish things. Abbie is his friend, Abbie is - she would never -

Ichabod watches Abbie speak into the radio, though he doesn’t really hear the words. He’s too busy trying to quiet the hundreds of scenarios in his head in which he has ‘royally screwed everything up’. He stands straight, hands clasped behind his back, fingers twitching madly. Lost in a current of children in strange finery and full satchels rushing past them on the street. Had he really tried to kiss her so publicly?

Abbie waves at him to get his attention as she is replacing the radio.

“We need to go check out the cemetery. The station is getting some calls about strange lights and noise. Probably just rowdy teenagers though. You up for it?’

“Of course, Lieutenant. Lead the way.”

His back is stiff with effort and Abbie smiles up at him. It’s small, apologetic. And then she's striding up the street, her skirts swirling about her.

**Author's Note:**

> Well this isn't even close to seasonal.


End file.
